


Always Speaks Ill

by DoreyG



Series: Suns Once Shone [3]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: (sort of), Arguing, Assassination Attempt(s), Blackmail, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Dumb Middle Aged Aliens, Episode Tag, M/M, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 13:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4963042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This seems like a bizarre role reversal," he offers wearily, upon opening the door to find G'Kar glowering at him from the other side, "please leave, before I have to call security and expose this whole sordid affair."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Speaks Ill

"This seems like a bizarre role reversal," he offers wearily, upon opening the door to find G'Kar glowering at him from the other side, "please leave, before I have to call security and expose this whole sordid affair."

"And see the look in Garibaldi's eyes when he realizes what you've done to me?" G'Kar sneers and shoulders past him. He could resist, but it seems far easier to just give in to whatever insane whims wait for him, " _we_ need to talk, again."

" _We_ did it together," he retorts angrily, but does at least have the presence of mind to close the door behind him. The thought of any station staff finding them like this is a... Troubling one, "and are you sure you actually want to talk? Sure you don't want to just shut me up, as per usual?"

"In good time," G'Kar snarls, and it really is amazing how he manages to make that sound like both a threat and a promise, "where's Vir?"

"Out," he snaps, and tries to pretend that neither of those things excite him. No sane man should be excited by threats, and a promise from G'Kar is worse than nothing, "so you don't have to worry about him interfering. What do you _want_ , G'Kar?"

"You know very well what I want," G'Kar _growls_ , and suddenly he's in his face - eyes blazing and mouth held like some servant about to strike, "a new Narn ambassador arrived today, a _replacement_ for me."

"...And you want him?"

"Don't be obscene," G'Kar snaps, and somehow moves closer. Closer and closer, until they are standing as close as they were... Just before the last time, "you know who I want, and I thought-"

They stare at each other for a moment, frozen.

"...It does not matter what I thought," G'Kar gives, and there's that old look back in his eyes. That one that it is terrifying to examine too closely, but that draws him in no matter what, "do you know what _he_ wants, Mollari?"

"I am not the master of wants in the universe, G'Kar," he grumbles, trying to appear at least vaguely stern. No, terrifyingly stern. He is the one with the power in this situation, and he will not be led astray, "and this does not seem particularly relevant-"

"He wants me to go home."

A long pause lingers between them. He slides his eyes away from G'Kar's face, and finds it hard to look back once he has done so.

"Back to Narn, I mean," G'Kar clarifies, and laughs a laugh that has absolutely no humour in it. Almost a medical mystery worth reporting to Dr Franklin, for its sparseness, "he wants me to abandon my position here and return, to stop advocating outright rebellion and instead return to the shadows to bide my time. Like an innocent little _pet_."

He opens his mouth. Finds his throat dry, and has to wet it before he can continue "...Then you should return."

"Don't play the fool, Mollari," G'Kar snaps, and suddenly his hands are fisted in his shirt - deliberately just short of causing severe pain to several rather delicate pieces of anatomy, "Na’Far may be innocent enough, G’Quan knows how, to believe that your government will honour their promises but you are not. You know very well that I will be dead within a week of stepping back on Narn, if they do not decide to simply destroy my transport in space.”

“I-“ he starts. And truly, _truly_ wants to refute that point… But cannot. The words freeze on his tongue, his tongue turns to ice in his mouth, “that’s-“

“For all your many, _many_ faults you know the way of the universe as well as I do, Mollari,” G’Kar sighs. And suddenly the look on his face is so weary, so ancient, that it is all he can do to resist dragging the Narn into his arms and falling asleep for a thousand years, “so tell me, would you cheerfully see me dead?”

He remains silent, staring, desperately biting down on his tongue.

“Murdered?”

“I-“

“ _Destroyed_ at last?”

“G’Kar-“

“You may believe me incapable of breaking, incapable of feeling any pain,” G’Kar snaps, and suddenly they are moving – tumbling, really, until he is pressed back against his desk with G’Kar’s hands fisting ferociously in his shirt, “but, by that same dint, you must _know_ that you are not. Admit it, Mollari, you do not _want_ to see me dead.”

“I-“ he starts, and then scowls. Finally raises his head again. And G’Kar’s eyes are black holes, dragging him fearsomely in, but he will _fight_ all the way down, “I _want_ what is best for the great Centauri republic.”

“Even if it means seeing me _dead_?”

“Why should I care if you are dead?” He yells. And he didn’t realize that he was so close to snapping, but now that it has happened it seems something inevitable, “I barely care that you’re alive in the first place!”

They stare at each other, panting. His quarters echo with the aftermath of their voices, hot anger across ever so cold metal. Sometimes, just sometimes, moments like this make him remember that he’s a very little man all alone in darkness of space. Right now, with G’Kar hot against him, he has the feeling that he’d be all alone even if he was standing on a planet with loamy earth underneath his feet.

“Perhaps you are a fool after all, Mollari,” G’Kar says miserably, and the look in his eyes is something uncomfortably close to betrayal, “reason, for you, is something that lost all appeal long ago.”

He stares for a moment, oddly broken by that look.

“…Shut up, G’Kar,” and reaches up, with the shattered remains of what strength he has left. Grabs G’Kar by the back of his unyielding neck, and drags his ever so hot mouth down to taste.


End file.
